


I Am A Witness

by Pandora_Boxe



Category: No Fandom
Genre: 'that' content, Blood, F/M, cuz why not, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora_Boxe/pseuds/Pandora_Boxe
Summary: The sticky stench of the body drifted up to her nose, she did not know what it was, but what she did know is that it was inhuman. She had watched it carve the guy on the floor, carving it with its razor sharp claws. When it was done, it simply stood up - it looked like a normal man, though a bit too much on the tall side - and walked away. She waited for a few moments, before stepping out from her hiding place to go and examine the carcass on the floor. The moment she laid eyes on it, a gasp escaped from her throat before she could stop it. She didn't know if she should be absolutely impressed or horrified - it had carved a perfect image of her, staring in horror from afar while it carved - on the surface of the body's naked skin.
Relationships: Nora/Constantine





	I Am A Witness

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely apologise if my grammar sucks or if my story content is not as interesting as you hoped. I just hope you enjoy what I have for you. Wish me luck - this is my first time writing.

> _Yes, this is perfect._

Giving out a sigh, he sat down next to his masterpiece, fixing his stare on the newest piece of his gallery, examining every single intricate detail and comparing it to the canvas beside it.

> _Hmmm, it's lacking some ripples here._

Picking up his knife, he started carving the details of the lake. He liked carving, as well as painting. It gave him a sense of peace, a sense of sanity, like it was a rope - a rope he clung onto to save himself from falling into the endless hole beneath.

Once he was done, he compared again, making sure every detail had been included. _You have done a great job today, well done._ He thought to himself.

Picking it up carefully, he laid it out on the metallic table, picking up a can and spraying the liquid on every part of the surface, just to ensure none of it would rot and make his efforts go to waste. He liked keeping things clean, so he took his carving supplies to the sink to wash. 

Just then, he heard the sound of footsteps right outside his porch. _It's the police,_ he told himself, familiar with the heavy footstep that carried confidence and anxiety at the same time. Putting his tools into a cabinet, he dried his hands and walked over to the door.

He opened the door right before the officer could knock, surprising him as always. 

There, standing back on high alert, was Officer Elliot. 


End file.
